Goodbye Mrs Hudson
by RubyRizzle90
Summary: Mrs Hudson has passed away and Sherlock is struggling to cope with his feelings. Molly Hopper is on hand to help, causing Sherlock to see her in a new light.
1. Chapter 1

Shelock Holmes was not an emotional man. That's what most people would tell you. His principles are reason and logic. He doesn't form attachments and believes sentiment to be a weakness.

This is of course tosh. Sherlock was a very emotional man, he was also very good at suppressing his emotions. He had many attachments, John Watson, Molly Hooper, Lestrade. And of course, Mrs Hudson.

Kind and decent Mrs Hudson, who was now being laid to rest in the presence of her family and closest friends.

As he said in between John and Mary, Sherlock tried to make sense of the pain he was feeling. It was in his nature to rationalise everything, to find the logic and reason.

This was different. There was no rationalising grief. Mrs Hudsons death had hit him like a freight train and he had no coping mechanism whatsoever.

John was worried. Sherlock had barely said a word since he had been given the news and John suspected he hadn't been eating properly either. His eyes were bloodshot, his skin paler than usual.

As the coffin was drawn behind the curtains Sherlock couldn't control the wave of sadness that surged through him. She was gone. He would never see her again.

The wake was held at Baker Street of course. Sherlock arrived in a cab with John, Mary and Molly. He headed straight to his room, bypassing the mourners gathered in his living room.

Ten minutes later John and Molly were chatting in a corner, Mary having gone off to refresh drinks and nibbles.

"I don't know what to do with him Molly. He's like a lost soul. All he does is sit in silence or play mournful tunes on his violin," Johns concern for his friend was evident and Molly put a soothing arm around him.

"Oh John, it'll get better. He'll come around. I honestly think it's because he doesn't know how to deal with losing someone so close to him. You know what he's like, he doesn't deal with his emotions in the same way we do."

John nodded.

"Yeah." He took a drink of his lemonade.

"Listen, would you mind having a word with him? It's just, I've tried and tried and I just can't get through to him."

Molly frowned.

"And what makes you think I'll be any different? You're his best friend John. If he won't listen to you…" she shrugged.

"No really Molly. He respects you, he really does. You're a good influence on you. I honestly think there's a chance he might listen to you. You've got a way with him, you know you have."

Johns eyes were pleading and Molly found she couldn't say no. She sighed.

"Okay. I'll give it a try."

"Thanks Molly. I really appreciate it."

Molly set her drink down and headed for Sherlocks room, filled with apprehension.

When she reached his door she knocked gently. His low voice came rumbling out.

"Go away John."

"Um, it's Molly actually. Can I come in?"

She was met with silence and was just about to walk away when the door opened and she was pulled inside.

Sherlock closed the door again promptly and Molly leaned back against it. He sat down on his bed and studied her with tired eyes.

"Come to console me have you?" he spat.

"Sherlock," she said softly, moving towards the bed to sit next to him.

"We're just concerned about you. John doesn't know how to help you. He's so worried. We all are. Mrs Hudson wouldn't have wanted you to sit around moping. She loved to see you excited about a case." Molly spoke quietly in an attempt to diffuse his anger.

Sherlock's only reaction was to bow his head, so Molly took a chance and moved closer to him. She lightly covered his hand with hers, fully expecting him to immediately snatch his hand away. She was surprised when he in fact turned his hand over and entwined his fingers with hers. Unsure of weather to speak or not, Molly merely squeezed his hand, hoping it would convey her support. When Sherlock lifted his head up to look at her his eyes shone with unshed tears.

Her heart melted at the sight of him so vulnerable.

"Oh Sherlock," she sighed, reaching out for him. He quickly moved into her arms and she soothingly rubbed his back.

"It's okay to be upset Sherlock," she murmured into his ear, "she loved you like you were her own son, of course you're going to be devastated. You have to give yourself time to grieve."

He sniffed and she tightened her hold on him, running a hand through his lovely curls. She held his as his body shook with sobs, enjoying the feel of being so close to him, despite the less than ideal circumstances.

Eventually Sherlock calmed and pulled back in Mollys arms, his eyes red and bloodshot. He cleared his throat and smiled at Molly.

"Thank you Molly."

She shrugged, "I didn't really do anything. But you're welcome."

He nodded and moved to sit on the bed, his back against the headboard, his long legs stretching out in front of him. He patted the space beside him and Molly moved to sit next to him. He quickly reached for her hand, entwining their fingers again.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while before Sherlock spoke, his baritone voice still a bit raspy.

"I remember the day she was attacked by that American. I don't think I've ever been so angry in my life."

Molly grinned.

"Yes, I think you made that pretty clear when you threw him out of a window."

Sherlock smirked proudly, causing Molly to giggle.

"He deserved it," Sherlock shrugged grinning.

"True. You never told me how you met Mrs Hudson. I'm assuming it was crime related?"

Sherlock nodded.

"Her husband was running some sort of drug cartel. She was a friend of my mothers and I was asked to assist in the case. By all accounts he was quite a rotter, women and drugs, all behind Mrs Hudson's back of course. I merely ensured he got what he deserved."

"Which was?"

"The death penalty."

Molly frowned.

"Oh sorry, they were living in Florida at the time," Sherlock hastily clarified.

Molly nodded.

"I see."

Sherlock continued.

"A few years later I was looking for a new flat in London. I knew Mrs Hudson still had Baker Street so I thought I'd pay her a visit. As luck would have it she had an empty flat."

Molly moved closer to Sherlock and rubber their shoulders together.

"She loved having you and John here, you were like the sons she never had."

Sherlock scoffed at this and Molly nodded.

"No really. She told me that herself, at Johns wedding. She was so proud of him, and of you with your wonderful best man speech. And you know how much she loved the little one. She was your family Sherlock and she knew how much you cared for her."

Molly willed for Sherlock to believe her.

He sighed and rested his head against Mollys.

"I know. I'm not really handling this. At all. I don't know how to make it go away."

"It's just time Sherlock. Time will pass and it will get easier. Talking about it helps too. Try and talk to John. He's hurting too and he's also worried sick about you."

Mollu felt Sherlock nod his head. He lifted his head to look at her.

"What should I do Molly?"

He looked so earnest Molly had to smile at him.

"Talk to John. Let him in. I know it's your instinct to regress, but it really helps to talk about things," she said gently.

"I do feel better having spoken to you."

Molly touched her cheek with her hand and smiled fondly at him.

"You'll feel even better after talking to John, I promise."

Sherlock frowned and shook his head.

"I don't know Molly, I don't think he will out do you for sympathy and good advice."

Molly moved to stand up from the bed.

"Well I'm glad I've been a help. Are you coming out or…?" She gestured towards the door.

Sherlock shook his head, his dark curls bouncing.

"No, I think I'll just stay here tonight, talk to John in the morning, I promise."

Molly nodded and headed for the door.

"Okay, I'll let him know. Night Sherlock."

Molly was just about to walk through the door when Sherlock called her back in.

"Molly wait!"

Molly turned around and found Sherlock standing in front of her. He leaned over and closed the door again.

Molly looked at him questioningly.

Sherlock cleared his throat before speaking.

"I was wondering if maybe you'd stay? Just for tonight? You can borrow some clothes to sleep in of course."

Molly considered his request. Sleeping next to Sherlock was pretty much her life ambition, but not after his landlady had just died. Nevertheless, she found she couldn't say no to him.

"Of course, you know I'm always here for you. I'll sleep in John's old room. There's still a bed in there isn't there?"

Sherlock shifted uncomfortably.

"Well yes there is, but I was rather hoping you'd stay here in my room. With me," he clarified.

Molly gaped at him, causing Sherlock to smirk.

"Do close your mouth Molly." He delighted in the blush that quickly stained Mollys cheeks. He took her hand and pulled her towards the bed.

"Well?" he looked at her expectantly.

**TBC….**

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks so much for the reviews, follows and favourites. Here's part two, enjoy!**

"Sherlock," Molly said hesitantly, "I'm not quite sure what it is you're asking me."

"I'm asking you to spend the night with me Molly. But please be aware that I have to expectations of you. You can set the pace. Or not. I mean, there might not be a pace to set. It's up to you. But I'd really like it if you stayed."

Molly nodded, shocked by Sherlocks rambling. He was always so put together when he spoke.

Sherlock smiled.

"Excellent. I have some pyjamas you can borrow. I'll just grab them," he said as he poked about in his wardrobe.

Molly stood watching him, feeling tiredness washing over her. She hoped Sherlocks bed was as comfy as it looked.

"Here we are!"

He handed her some checked bottoms and a t shirt.

"Thanks," Molly smiled.

"They might be a bit big for you."

Molly laughed.

"Yes. I'm pretty sure they will be. Considering how much taller than me you are."

Sherlock smiled softly.

"Well it's either that or sleep in your birthday suit. And I rather think it's a bit too chilly for that," Sherlock joked.

Molly shrugged.

"Oh I don't know, maybe later when we're nice and warm in bed," she said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Sherlock blinked and cleared his throat.

"Yes, well. I'll just pop to the loo, give you some privacy."

He quickly exited the room and Molly smiled at his embarrassment. She didn't know how the night would go but she was looking forward to being close to Sherlock all night. She felt herself blush as her thoughts wandered. She quickly changed into Sherlocks giant pyjamas and got into bed. By the sounds of it the wake was pretty much over out in the living room. Molly snuggled down into the covers and was immediately surrounded by Sherlocks scent. She felt a shiver of desire run through her.

A few minutes later there was a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," Molly called and Sherlock slipped into the room, quickly closing the door. He stood for a moment, taking in the sight of Dr Molly Hooper in his bed wearing his pyjamas. This certainly wasn't how he expected the day to end when he woke up this morning, but he was very grateful not to be alone for the night. It seemed an odd time to finally confront his feelings for Molly, but he realised the importance of actions. He knew what Mrs Hudson would have said, probably something about Molly being a lovely girl and that they'd make a nice couple but he had better treat her nicely. Sound advice, he thought.

"I've just spoken with John. He's going to come over tomorrow so we can talk properly. I told him you're looking after me for the night. I'm sure he and Mary will delight in speculating about our relationship."

Sherlock moved towards his wardrobe, Mollys eyes following him across the room. He began removing his jacket, carefully hanging it up. His shoes followed, then his tie and socks. Molly felt like he was giving her a private strip tease. Although she also suspected he was completing unaware of the effect it was having on her. Next to go was his crisp white shirt which he tossed into the laundry basket. Molly tried not to gorp at his naked torso and was almost certain she could see a faint smirk cross his lips. The final part of the show were his dress trousers which he stepped out of and hung up in the wardrobe. He closed the wardrobe and sauntered towards the bed in just his briefs, where he climbed in next to Molly.

"Well thanks for the strip show," she said, trying to keep a straight face. She turned to the side and caught Sherlocks smirk, causing them both to fall into laughter.

Sherlock smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry, I sort of forgot you could see me," he lied.

Molly laughed and poked him in the side.

"Not as clever as you think eh, curly?" she teased.

Sherlock scoffed.

"Please. I think you are well aware of how intelligent I am Dr Hooper. As I am aware of your great intellect".

"Oh shut up!"

Sherlock took Molly's hand, clasping it between his own.

"Do you doubt me Molly? Why do you think you're the only one I'll work with at Bart's?"

Molly moved her hand so she could lace their fingers together.

"To be fair Sherlock, I think I'm the only one who'll work with _you_."

Sherlock started to run his thumb backwards and forwards across Molly's hand.

"Well yes there is that," he admitted, "but I'd always choose to work with you Molly, you must know that?"

Molly took a calming breath.

"Not that I want to ruin the moment, but why are you being so nice to me? I mean, you haven't said anything insulting for at least two hours."

Sherlock squeezed her hand gently.

"You know, Mrs Hudson always used to day what a lovely couple we'd make. And, in spite of the way I've treated you, I've always been inclined to agree with her. These past few weeks have really made me realise what matters. The people that matter. John, Lestrade. Even that damn brother of mine. And of course you Molly Hooper. So I suppose this is me finally facing up to my feelings. I only hope that I am not too late," he finished softly.

Molly was visibly stunned and Sherlock smiled.

"Molly, you should see your face," he chuckled.

He shifted closer to her and almost whispered, "I know how to fix that."

His lips gently covered hers and she allowed herself to melt into him, hands moving to grip his shoulders. She was overwhelmed by his scent and presence and pulled away for a moment to catch her breath.

Sherlock gave her a look of apprehension.

"That bad? I admit I am a little bit out of practice."

"No, no. It was lovely Sherlock, really. I'm just a little overwhelmed is all. You know how long I've… liked you. It's just a bit of a surprise."

She lifted one hand from his shoulder and ran it through his lovely curls. Sherlock leaned into her touch, butting her hand like a cat snd making her giggle.

"You're worse than Toby."

She continued rubbing his head, openly staring at his rather magnificent chest. "Your skin is so white, it's like ivory."

"Hmm," Sherlock hummed. He gently took her other hand and placed it on his chest, encouraging her to explore. She didn't need much encouragement as she ran her hand up and down his gorgeous chest.

"Molly, Molly, Molly," he murmured and he buried his face in her neck, kissing his way up her jaw.

She pulled him up to meet her mouth and they kissed languidly for what seemed like hours. Molly found it astonishing how well they fit. There was no awkward clashing of teeth or head angling. It was all so easy and natural. Eventually Molly pulled away for some much needed air. Sherlock grinned brightly at her, his lovely lips swollen, looking boyish and handsome. She couldn't help but grin back, giggling. Slightly embarrassed, she buried her face in his chest and they shared a quiet few moments to catch their breath. Molly couldn't quite believe the turn of events, but she decided not to question it, breathing in Sherlocks unique scent.

After a few moments Sherlocks baritone interrupted the silence.

"You know, you never did tell me what actually happened with that Tom fellow. Why the sudden break up?"

He was running his hand soothingly through Mollys hair and she melted into him. She shifted and smooshed her face further in Sherlocks chest, mumbling something.

"Hmm? What was that?"

Molly felt heat flood her cheeks as she peeked up at Sherlock.

"I may have called out someone else's name at a very inappropriate moment," she reluctantly admitted.

Sherlock grinned and poked her in the side.

"Someone else's name eh? And may I ask who's name it was?" he teased.

Molly only response was to bury her face back into his chest.

"Okay, a guessing game. Excellent. Now let's think. Was it… Lestrade?"

Molly shook her head against him, a smile on her face.

"No? Okay... John?"

Molly began to giggle at his antics.

Sherlock frowned down at her.

"Not John then. Hmm. One of your exes perhaps? Who was that fellow you used to go on lunch dates with? Stephen was it?"

Molly lifted her head, still laughing, and jabbed Sherlock in the arm.

"You know very well who it was. And if you don't then you're not worthy of your "international reputation" Mr Holmes."

Sherlock smirked and pulled her closer, his breath mingling with hers.

"Tell me Molly Hooper. Tell me whose name you called," he breathed.

She tried to distract him with a kiss but he pulled away from her shaking his head.

"No, no. No more kisses until you tell me."

Molly sighed and rested her forehead against his.

"It was you, you silly arse. It was always you."

"Good answer Dr Hooper," he murmured, before covering her mouth with his.

**TBC….**


	3. Chapter 3

**Final part. Thanks so much for reading. Enjoy.**

A much as Molly was enjoying Sherlock's attention, she knew she wanted to take things slowly. Don't get her wrong, it was tempting, especially as she could feel his gorgeous body press against her and lavished attention on her neck. But she defiantly didn't want to screw this up. Sherlock seemed to sense this and slowed down his advances, pulling Molly against him and stroking her hair.

"Sleep Molly Hooper," he murmured into her ear and Molly let herself relax into him. She was lulled to sleep by his slow breathing.

The next morning wasn't nearly as awkward and Molly expected. She awoke to the very pleasant feeling of Sherlock wrapped around her, his long legs pinning her firmly to him. She watched him silently as he slept, his curls all over the place, his perfect lips slightly parted. She ran her fingers along her cheeks, watching his eyes flutter open.

He smiled softly at her.

"Good morning."

She grinned back at him.

"Just giving my face a poke there were you?"

Molly giggled. "Sorry."

He laughed and pulled her closer to him, kissing down her neck. She gripped his broad shoulders and gave into the sensations.

An hour or so later found the two of them having breakfast in the kitchen of 221b and Molly decided to voice what was on her mind.

"Sherlock, can I ask you something?" she said after finishing her coffee.

Sherlock, still shirtless and wearing pyjama bottoms that hung deliciously from his hips, put down his mug of tea and looked over at Molly.

"Yes Molly, we are a couple, or whatever ghastly term you want to use. And if you would permit me, I would like to take you to dinner this evening."

Molly laughed.

"Like a date?" she teased.

Sherlock frowned.

"Why are you laughing? And yes. Like a date."

"Have you ever been on a date Sherlock?"

He looked thoughtful.

"You know, I don't think I have actually. Unless I've deleted it."

Molly stood up and walked over to Sherlock, wrapping her arms around his pale neck.

"Well then, I'll let you know how you do," she teased, nipping his earlobe.

Sherlock hummed and ran his hands through her silky hair, mouthing along her neck and speaking softly in her ear.

"You should know, I don't take criticism very well."

His deep voice made her shiver and she gripped his shoulders as he kissed his way along her jaw. He was just about at her lips when they heard a loud cough from the doorway.

Molly spun around in Sherlock's arms to find John smiling at them.

"Feeling better are we?" he addressed his best friend.

Sherlock looked sheepish and Molly gave him a reassuring kiss on the cheek before pulling away.

"Would you like some tea John?" she asked sweetly.

John nodded.

"Please."

Molly carefully poured John some tea and added milk and sugar.

"Thanks Molls," he grinned, taking a sip.

"I've just come to have a word with this one, since he hasn't spoken to me in days," he gestured towards Sherlock with his cup.

The two men held each other's gaze and Molly made to excuse herself.

"Well I'll just give you some space," she said, heading out of the kitchen.

"Oh no you don't," she grabbed her hand, pulling her back into his arms.

"I still need you Molly Hooper. In fact, I think I need you indefinitely. Is that okay?"

Molly nodded. It was the most okay thing she'd ever heard.


End file.
